


Embrace Your Destiny

by klarohizzies



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), Legacies - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Noir, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, My First Fanfic, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klarohizzies/pseuds/klarohizzies
Summary: AU 1940's. What happens when destiny brings together the worlds of Hope Mikaelson, a nightclub owner, and Elizabeth Saltzman, one of Hollywood's most famous movies stars? [Based on 2x14].
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Lizzie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Embrace Your Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I'm really excited. This is the first fanfiction I've ever written, so please be easy on me. Honestly, the hizzie fandom is so amazing, and I know a lot of them wanted to read an AU about noir hizzie, because that episode had one of hizzie's best moments. So I've deacided to take the courage and write one myself. I'm sorry if there's some grammer mistakes. English is not my first language but I really tried to make it the best I could.
> 
> For those who don't know, the name of this fic connect to the meaning of "fatum", which is destiny/fate. I also decided to call it "Embrace Your Destiny" because of the promo legacies posted for season 3, and it was written in the caption under Lizzie.
> 
> The story sets on the 1940's. It's based on 2x14 but with some different detective plot, but also similar. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Happy Reading!

It was another regular night at Landon's. People were coming in droves to find comfort in other people's company and listen to the sounds of music while they're getting drunk enough to forget their own names when the night is over. 

All that was quite ordinary for Hope Mikaelson, the nightclub owner, and also the bartender, who was already used to this kind of commotion her club caused in the late hours of the night.

But for some reason, that night felt different for her. It was something in the air that felt odd, as if something unexpected was about to happen. But that thought passed over her mind very quickly as she continued to serve drinks.

Even though she owns one of the most successful nightclubs in Mystic Falls, she still worked as she did when she first opened this place. This place was hers. She opened it all by herself despite what other people said, and it will always mean something important for her.

Then she worked. Just like a regular employee. Although in days like this when she wasn't in her best temper, it became harder to have to manage herself in front of others. And it wasn't like she enjoyed people's company in general.

Though most of the people who used to visit her club were considered honorable, she could tell about a few times she came across some unpleasant "gentlemen" who used to not think before they acted. At the time it took for them to try and reach their hands in her direction, they were already kicked out without even noticing.

And the same treatment goes for other women as well. For Hope, her place's dignity meant the most. As much as men like to be masculine, she has some clear ground rules. 

When it came to harass a dame, no matter how wealthy that man was, or if he happened to be a regular costumer. She did not hesitate to send whoever that was to his merry way.

She continued with serving drinks as she went deep in her thoughts, thinking about him again.

"Ugh," she sighed desperately, after she was distracted and spilled the drink she was making.

She couldn't bear it anymore. Frankly, she couldn't think about him without having the urge to hit something, or someone. Then she suddenly saw him, the perfect candidate.

He was standing right at the entrance of the club, beginning to pace towards her, Rafael Waithe. 

What was he doing here? Well, it is a small town after all. But since the one who shall not be named left, Rafael used to avoid from visiting her place.

"Well, can't say I'm not entirely surprised," she said, wiping a few glasses while avoiding his gaze.

"Hope," he said, "It's been a while."

"It's been," she raised her eyes to his direction to see him staring,

"If you came here to stare the least you can do is order something,"

His smirk went wider. It was good to see her again.

"Actually, tonight I'm here on business matters," He settled down on the bar chair.

She raised one eyebrow in question, "I hope you didn't bring the all press along with you," she added sarcastically, didn't even bother to ask about his doings. As long as his presence won't cause a problem for her nightclub, she didn't mind.

"I'll be surprised if they won't be here by their own anytime soon,"

She looked at him silently, waiting for him to detail. He pointed his gaze towards one table who was in the middle of the club. Hope looked over his shoulder and followed his gaze.

There were two women who began to settle down as they were escorted by the waiter.

"Over there is sitting one of Hollywood's most famous movie stars, Elizabeth Saltzman."

She moved her eyes to her direction, and there she was. The most impressive and elegant women Hope has ever seen in her nightclub. Perhaps in her all life.

She sat there with a straightened back, a raised chin, and both of her hands on her knees. She wore a wide black dress with lace on the sleeves, and a far coat rested on her right shoulder. A diamond necklace was worn around her neck, which seemed to cost like the all club itself. Her hair was light blond and combed according to the contemporary fashion. Half loose hair and thick designed curls fell over her tight shoulders.

Hope could admit that she looked beautiful, like nothing she has ever seen before.

The women who sat next to Miss Saltzman wore a black plaid suit and had a gathered raven black hair with a beret hat placed on it. By the way she was sitting Hope could tell how tense and uneasy she was, as if she was constantly examining her surroundings with suspicion.

Hope heard people's whispers hovering around the young dame when they noticed her presence.

"She's in town for the filming of her new movie, I followed her from the airport."

So that what it was all about? She thought.

Some fancy actress is in town and the world was about to stop spinning. God, she hated this kind of nonsense. The last thing she needed to deal with right now is the presence of paparazzi in the club, disturbing her costumers and harming her business. All because of one blonde movie star.

But Hope wasn't someone to play around with, and people did know that. Including Rafael. The young photographer knew her as someone he didn't wanna disturb in any way. Then he waited for a response. Wished she would grant him her permission to take pictures in her place.

She quickly realized what he wanted. She was about to send him off, but then remembered that after all, Rafael was still an old friend of hers.

She left a sigh before she spoke, "Fascinating," she rolled her eyes,

"But if you don't mind, I got a work to do," 

She began to walk towards the bar exit, heading her way to her office. She stopped at his side of the bar and leaned to him,

"And you better harry up and take your pictures."

________________________________________

Lizzie Saltzman stared at her half empty drink as the music played in the background. She could really use this, she thought to herself.

She remembered her sister's words: "Being a star comes first with priorities."

As being a public figure, it was important to maintain the image they created for her. But all that was her sister's job to take care of. Lizzie couldn't care less.

She only cared for one thing. The fame and the luxuries that came along with it. This where her interest lay in that shallow world. The exclusive luxury life was everything she has ever wanted.

Even if she tried, she couldn't deny the love she had for being the center of attention. For the praise and admiration, she had been receiving from the audience. For the glory that was possessing her.

Being in public meant she will get all of that, and there's nothing she loved more in this world. Well, maybe except from Champagne.

The melody deepened and the melancholia began to permeate deep inside of her.

"I thought you brought us to a nightclub, not a funeral," she said as she took another sip of her drink.

"I'll suggest you to reduce the drinking," Josie declared, "We have filming tomorrow."

Lizzie rolled her eyes, "Please Jo, that creep of director doesn't care about my physical condition unless it's topless."

Josie flicked her eyes and nodded slightly in approval. That director truly was one a hell of a creep. But it was an important job, so they couldn't complain much about it.

She was about to tell Lizzie she needs to take it more seriously otherwise they'll end up again with no job to provide her drinking needs, as a dame singer in a black dress took the stage, and more music to Lizzie's liking began to play.

Josie found the song at least tolerable. She put her elbow on the table and touched her chin with her fingernails as she concentrated on the melody. Then she noticed a certain person was standing left to the stage, pointing a camera in her sister's direction.

She turned half a gaze to Lizzie, "That photographer," she glared back at him, "He followed us from the airport."

Lizzie immediately started to straighten herself up. She lifted her chin further up in his direction.

"I'm in town to make a picture, Jo," she flicked her eyes and turned to Josie, "The more publicity, the better,"

"As your sister, but more importantly, your publicist, I disagree," Josie replied, emphasizing with her fingertips, "We need to control the narrative, because if you still looked good from that angle, we'd be working with Howard Hawks."

Josie looked away as Lizzie's eyes widened and glared at her with disapproval. Lizzie already knew by herself she wasn't a good enough actress to work with the industry's considered directors, but did she have to point it out this way?

"Fine," she declared, blinking as she half turned her gaze, 

"Then at least find me another drink after you're done scaring him off," 

She lifted up the drink and brought it closer to her lips.

"As if you need another drink."

________________________________________

Milton Greasley wandered through the dark alleys of Mystic Falls. It was cold, but he had no choice if he wanted to find who he was searching for. His partner Rupert Vardemus went missing for a couple of nights now, and the young detective had a feeling something bad had happened. He just couldn't figure what exactly.

On the bright side, at least he knew where to start, because there's one thing that everyone in Mystic Falls knows. There's a place where the lost things go.

He entered for the first time the front door of Landon's. Although it was the busting nightclub of Mystic Falls, he never played a visit in it. This may have been related to the fact that he was too busy in his job, as being the right- hand man of one of the most known detectives in town. And also, one of the most alcoholic detectives in town. In any case, such places didn't particularly suit him.

He walked in as he encountered the hostess and removed his hat in a gesture. He pinned it to his chest as he kept moving forward to the bar.

His eyes witnessed a glorious sight he has never seen before. He had been familiar with that sight. That woman was the movie actress Elizabeth Saltzman.

Frankly, he was a big fan of hers. She seemed so delicate and bright. He couldn't stop glaring at her as he walked backwards towards the bar counter until he came across a chair at the edge of the bar, and settled on it.

For a couple of minutes, he forgot his own purpose for coming to this place. He was distracted by Miss Saltzman's beauty, and drawn deep to her presence.

As far as he noticed, the dame singer had finished her song and introduced herself in front of the people. He kept glaring as a female voice emerged behind him.

"This ain't a peep show," the young women scorned as she walked into the bar with a bottle of champagne and a receipt notebook in her hands.

"Can you blame me?"

Well, she couldn’t.

She set down the bottle on the counter and took her place on the front side of the bar, so he was sitting right in front of her left.

"Elizabeth Saltzman's a star. I've seen all of her movies." 

She placed down the notebook, and then took a quick glance at the blonde star she saw earlier that night.

"I'm bad with faces."

Now, that wasn't entirely true, was it? But maybe it was enough to make the man understand she wasn't interested in a small talk.

She lifted her pen and opened her notebook as he continued,

"I'm hoping that's not the case,"

he reached for his coat pocket and took a picture out of it.

"I'm looking for my boss," he continued, "The best P.I this town's ever known," He placed the picture on the counter and shoved it towards her.

She turned halfway in his direction. She lowered her eyes quickly as she rested her elbow on the counter, holding a pen with her fingers.

"Like I said," she frowned and shoved the picture back at him,

"I'm bad with faces."

She turned around and returned to her doings as he shoved the picture back in his pocket.

"He's in danger, Miss Mikaelson."

Hope put the pen on the notebook and turned back and faced him. 

"How do you know my name?" She protested as she rested her body with her right arm on the counter.

"The same way I know your liquor license is expired," 

Hope flinched. She hoped that no one would find out about it until she could take care of it by herself as soon as possible. And now, who the hell knows what this detective was going to do with that information.

"So," he added, "Let's help each other out."

Well, now that he held something on her, she thought it would be better if she'll at least give him some lead. She licked slightly her lower lip before she rolled her eyes.

"He looks like the kinda guy who comes here for the music," she blinked, "If I were you, I'd ask the dame who sings," she raised an eyebrow, "Because I, don't."

She emphasized her last words, then she turned around and raised her pen.

She glanced at him again and flickered her eyes as she shoved her notebook further aside and turned her back to face him.

________________________________________

Lizzie waited impatiently for her sister's return. She wasn't absent for long, but Lizzie didn't like to be left alone. With her thoughts. At least before she left to confront the photographer, she went to the bar and ordered her a bottle of champagne as she promised. Now she had something to help soothing her depression. Or paraphs deepen it even more.

She sat with her left elbow on the table and her head resting on her hand. Her other hand held the glass. She took every sip desperately.

Now she could really use that singer's singing. Anything that could prevent from her from thinking about the worse.

Her time was up. She was just a fading starlet that nobody in the industry wanted to hire anymore, and the best role she could get came with a pervert as a director. Very fitting for the "washed up" actress she was. All she wanted was to drawn herself in her sorrow, and drink until she forgets about this all fucking world. 

There was no Hope for her anymore.

She had finished half of the bottle when her sister came back from outside the club to tell her what she had discovered.

Josie saw the sight and paced quickly to the table. She settled down in her chair and a grim look on her face.

"Have you lost your mind? We're in public," she scowled whispery, "Do you want all the newspapers to publish about your drinking problems?"

"Calm down, Jo. No newspaper gives a damn about me," she mocked herself, 

"Besides, you smuggled out the only photographer who actually wanted to photograph me."

"Stop with the self-pitying," Josie rolled her eyes intolerantly.

Lizzie wanted to respond her sister's indifferent comment, but she didn't have the energy to waste on it. So, she blinked at her and took another sip to her lips.

"Speaking of that photographer," Josie added, "That brat refused to hand me over those pictures. And when I threatened him with a lawsuit for trespassing, he said the club owner have approved him to take here pictures," her nose crinkled, 

"Unbelievable."

"Why would anyone want paparazzi to disturb their business?" Lizzie wondered at loud.

"I guess anyone who gets paid well for it."

Lizzie didn't understand well the business world and what bureaucracy was about. That was more of her sister's job. She didn't interfere in this kind of matters. But she couldn't stop thinking if that was what awaited her.

Will she have to work her all life in dubious acting jobs to make a living for herself, as the club owner brought the press to their club for money?

She lifted the half empty bottle and poured herself another drink. 

Josie's eyes widened. She abruptly snatched the bottle from her hands and placed it on the other side of the table, far from Lizzie's reach.

"Lizzie, enough already," Josie frowned, "We're leaving."

"What's the matter, Jo?" 

Lizzie grumbled at her sister, "You're the one who ordered for me that bottle of Champagne in the first place."

"I have no idea what the hell you are talking about," Josie frowned as she narrowed her eyes in derision, 

"I didn't order you any Champagne."

"What do you mean, you didn't?" Lizzie frowned with confusion as she tried to put the pieces back together.

"Before you left to confront that photographer, you went to the bar and ordered me another drink," she continued, "Then this bottle of Champagne was brought to the table."

"I wasn't at the bar at all, I went straightly to talk to that photographer."

Lizzie didn't know what was happening. That was not the truth, right? She clearly saw Josie at the bar, ordering a drink, and then walking outside to talk to that photographer. That didn't make any sense. Why would she deny it happened?

"Why would I order you more alcohol in addition to your excessive daily consumption?" She grinned.

Lizzie didn't say anything, but she was well aware that something was wrong with her sister. For some time now, she was mysteriously disappearing without telling her. It didn't bother Lizzie at all, she thought she was just probably having an affair. As far as she was concerned, Josie could do whatever or whoever she wanted. Of course, as long it didn't affect her directly. But that lie. 

Why the hell did she lie about that?

There was also the simple option, that it was the booze who made her imagine it all. But she barley drank back then, so it couldn't be a side effect of alcohol.

Then there was the simpler option in her case. She tried to avoid thinking of the possibility. No. It couldn't be happening again. She wasn't going crazy. She couldn't have been imagining it. She wasn't crazy. She couldn't be.

Josie noticed she was struggling within her thoughts and that the matter confused her. Her expression softened. Then she lifted her hand and rested it on top of hers.

"You probably drank too much. That's all," her mouth curved into a small smile, 

"The battle was probably sent by a fan, or by some…"

She was interrupted by people's yells. The whole club was full of screams and shouts that pointed right to the singer's dressing room.

"She is dead! The singer is dead! She's been poisoned!"

________________________________________

Soundtrack:

Flying Machine- Everly

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's it! I hope you all enjoyed it and that it wasn't too short.
> 
> So now Josie is hiding some secrets. Well, is she? We'll just have to see what happens from there. I know there weren't hizzie interactions yet, but they will be interacting soon and a lot so don't worry. I really wanted to bring the detective world into the story, so you will be seeing it more from other characters as well.
> 
> Thank you so much for investing your time and reading it!
> 
> Please, if you liked it and you have some commentary please leave a kudos and a review. I'd really appreciate it.
> 
> See you at the next chapter!


End file.
